Struck Home
by Frootkake Productions
Summary: Lorne pops back to Pylea after an urgent message about his mother arrives, and the life of everyone's favourite green-skinned songster just won't be the same...


Disclaimer: I don't own Lorne or any of the characters found herein. I just felt like writing this down, and then Holly (Fuzzy Elf) said it was cute and that I should post it, so here it is. I hope you don't hate it. But if you do, that's okay, too. Oh, and the Smurfs reference was an accident. I don't own them, either. I just couldn't think of a semi-decent Pylean-esque name…

Struck Home 

            The Pylean climbed the front stairs anxiously.  Gargammel was his name, and he hated visiting foreign dimensions.  That was why he was anxious to deliver his message; the sooner the task was done, the sooner he could return to the safety of home.  Gargammel took a piece of folded paper out of his inner vest pocket to check the name once more before he knocked and disturbed whomever was within the hotel.

            "The Hyperion.  Yup, this is the place," Gargammel placed the piece of paper back in its place, and raised his hand to the wooden door.  He knocked three times, then waited for an answer.

            A tall male cow, six-foot-one, with spikey brown hair and brown eyes that revealed a long expanse of life to the Pylean opened the door.  "Oh God, not another one." He rolled his eyes.  "What do you want?"

            Gargammel was taken aback by the man's comment, but he decided to let it slide. "I have an urgent message to deliver to Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan."

            "A message for Lorne?" the man sighed, glancing inside the hotel briefly.  "Aright, I'm Angel, come on in."

            Gargammel bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement, then stepped inside.  A young female cow looked up from a book she was reading, and smiled at Gargammel.  The Pylean looked away, uncomfortable among so many minorities.  _Why in all of Pylea would Krevlorneswath prefer life here?_

            "Lorne's just upstairs," Angel stated.  "Fred, would you mind getting him?"

            The female cow designated Fred nodded emphatically before placing a marker in her book.  She jogged up the stairs, humming to herself.  Gargammel folded his arms across his chest.

            "So, uh, do you have a name?" Angel inquired, trying to be friendly.

            "I am Gargammel of the Lloydster Clan."

            "Interesting," Angel leaned casually against the counter.  He wondered if the demon had ever heard of The Smurfs.  "And how do you know Lorne?"

            "I am not acquainted with Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan.  I only bear him a message."

            "Interesting,"

            Lorne appeared on the stairs to their right, asking, "Alright, so what's all the hoopla about?"

            Gargammel straightened, and dropped his arms to his sides.  "Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan, I am Gargammel of the Lloydster Clan."

"Uh, hi," Lorne finished his descent of the stairs.  He wondered if the other demon had ever heard of The Smurfs.  "What can I do for you?"

"I bring to you an urgent message from your Mother."

"Oh," Lorne was unimpressed.  "I see,"

"Your Mother is very ill and has requested your immediate return to Pylea."

It was Lorne's turn to fold his arms across his chest.  "Why?"

"It is uncertain how much longer his Life Force can remain in this Mortal Coil."

Lorne's jaw dropped slightly.  That was different.  His mother was sick… "Let's go,"

"I was given a one-time use spell to open a portal and bypass all normal troubles involved in opening a way to Pylea.  Follow me," Gargammel informed the other Pylean.

"Lorne, should we come along?" Angel asked.  He did not want to go, but Gunn and Fred could tag along if Lorne so desired.

"No, this is personal, I won't need any enforcers this time.  Thanks though,"

"Alright," Angel nodded.  "See ya when you get back."

Lorne nodded, and the two Pyleans departed.

* * *

            Lorne stood outside the humble abode he had grown up in.  He had never wanted to return here, and yet he had.  Twice.

            Gargammel regarded Lorne curiously.  "Are you not going to enter?"

            "I'm just gathering my nerve, that's all.  The last time I returned home, I was ordered never to come back again.  So this is a little hard for me."

            "Think of your mother—" Gargammel cut himself short.  He had been given very specific instructions not to tell Lorne all the information.  Why it was such a big secret, the Pylean was unsure, but he knew better than not to follow instructions.

            Lorne took the unfinished statement the wrong way.  "I _am_ thinking of my mother," he snapped.

            Gargammel averted his eyes.  "Just go inside, Krevlorneswath,"

            "I wish you'd stop calling me that." Lorne took a deep breath.  He couldn't wait any longer.  If his mother needed to see him so badly, then he'd better not keep him waiting any longer.

            "Indeed," the other replied, staying well behind Lorne.

            Inside the hut was dark.  Lorne noticed that all the windows had been covered, and the only source of light was tiny spheres hovering in the corners of the rooms.  "What is all this about, Gargammel?"

            "You will see.  That is why you are here, is it not?"

            Lorne furrowed his eyebrows, brushing the flap away from the doorway that led into his mother's bedroom.  "Ma?"

            "Oh, good, you're here," Landok clapped his cousin on the shoulder.  "I'll wake him up."

            "Landok, what's goin' on?  Seraphim over here wouldn't tell me anything except that my presence was requested."

            "Who?"

            "Nevermind, you wouldn't get it."

            "Oh, well, have patience for just a little longer.  We were told that he wanted to tell you himself."

            Landok beckoned one of the Light Spheres closer as he knelt beside the bed.  The illumination cast an eerie glow over the sleeping form of Lorne's mother.  A form he could now make out to be stricken.  His face was drawn taut, the skin like paper.  The eyes were sunken back.  He barely looked alive at all.  The Pylean jolted awake at the lightest touch from his nephew, and after a few moments of confusion, his glazed eyes came to rest on Lorne.  

A wan smile touched his lips, and he held out his hand to his son.  "I was afraid you wouldn't come," his voice was raspy and hollow.

Landok moved out of the room, leaving Lorne alone with his mother.  The Pylean knelt beside the bed, taking his mom's hand.  It felt like he was grasping straw; there was no strength in the grip.  "I didn't feel welcome after our last meeting, Ma," he admitted.  "But Gargammel said it was important that I come to see you.  How could I do anything else?"

"Ah, Dear Boy," Lorne's mother brushed his fingers down his son's cheek.  "I'm sorry for the way I reacted to your return.  The truth is that I didn't know what to think when I saw you.  Five years is a long time to not know if your offspring is alive or…otherwise."

"I know.  I'm sorry, Ma,"

He patted his son's hand, trying to look cheerful in his sullen state.  "I'm sorry, too,"

An awkward silence fell over them.  Lorne wanted to ask how and for how long his mother had been sick, but was unsure of how to broach the subject.  His mother was content just to hold his son's hand once more, and the feeling of peace that forgiveness brought.

Lorne tried to put his question into gentle words, "Ma, how—"

"Old age, Honey, just old age.  That's all anyone can figure, anyhow."

            "And you've just accepted that?"

            "Yes,"  

Suddenly, he burst into a fit of coughs.  Lorne called for a glass of water.  Landok responded almost immediately.  _He must have been listening at the door,_ Lorne mused.  

When he lay back down, Lorne's mother's breathing sounded more shallow than it had only minutes before.  "Krevlorneswath, I leave all my possessions to you to delegate between you and your brothers.  That is the true reason I wanted you here.  This is my final wish."  His eyes rolled back in his head briefly, then focused on Lorne again.  "That we made peace means more to me than anything else ever could."

"Ma, stop being so dramatic—"  His fingers tightened around Lorne's as he inhaled deeply.  "Ma?"

"There's nothing we can do now," Landok said quietly, his hand on his cousin's shoulder.

Tears stung Lorne's eyes.  He had returned home just in time to be present at his mother's death.  That was never part of the agenda.  Anger, shouting, these were the things that were to be accepted when the two got together.  Never acceptance and forgiveness.  He shook his head helplessly as his sire heaved his last breath.  Lorne bowed his head as sobs wracked his body.  He did not even notice Landok's departure to give him some privacy.

* * *

A week had passed, and Lorne still felt empty.  He could not recall the last time he had crooned about R-E-S-P-E-C-T, nor did he care.  In all his time spent in the Earth dimension, it had never occurred to him that he could lose his family at any time and never even know they were ill, as was the case with his mother.  Now, he could not help the feeling of guilt and disgust directed _at_ himself _by_ himself.

"Mornin' for-Lorne,"

The green demon's head was raised in Fred's direction.  "Yeah," he murmured.

"How are ya doin'?" she asked, clearly concerned.

Lorne shrugged.  "I never should have left,"

Fred threw her arms around the Pylean.  "This was inevitable, no matter if you'd left or stayed.  You have to know and _believe_ that," she replied quietly.

Lorne put his arms around the girl's tiny frame.  "Thank you, Fred," he whispered.  "I know you're right."

"Damn straight I am," she smiled at him.  "Now, what do you say we get some grub?"

Lorne tried to smile, but it came out lopsided.  "Okay," he agreed.

"Great," Fred took the demon's hand in hers, and tugged him along to the kitchen.


End file.
